Thin Lines (Donati Bloodlines Book 2) (21 page)

All the things that hurt.

The things they had no control over.

A life they didn’t want.

He watched her back bow against smooth, shiny wood. He
heard her breathless cries echo above the clangs of her fist hitting against
the piano keys every time he thrust back inside her. He could smell their sex
saturating the room.

It was perfectly wrong.

And disappointingly right.

He heard her whispers of
Don’t stop
,
right
there
, and
Oh, my God, Cal
through the blood rushing in his ears.

Why did they have to be the bad people?

Why did they have to be the ones who lost in this?

Calisto didn’t stop fucking Emma on the piano until
his semen filled her, and spilled out of her body onto the pristine baby grand.

And even then …

He flipped her over to her knees, and fucked her
again.

“Don’t you think you’re a little too close to your
uncle’s wife?”

Calisto lifted his gaze from the amber liquid in his
glass to the man sitting across the desk from him. Ray Missotti had posed the
question quietly, and without any emotion showing on his face.

Calisto hated the man for asking.

He’d been waiting for this moment, and frankly, was
surprised it took someone this long to bring it up and say something out loud.
Sure, there were probably a few men who were thinking it, but not a lot would
have the guts to accuse Calisto of something.

Apparently, Ray did.

“I’m not sure what you’re saying,” Calisto drawled
quietly.

“Don’t you?”

“No.”

“I’m saying that your presence in this house night
after night, your demand to be the only person who watches Affonso’s wife, and
your lack of interest in other women is a little … concerning,” Ray finished,
cocking a brow.

“So, the fact that Emma has been through hell since
her attack last month, has been left to fend for herself, and is currently
without her husband is enough of a reason to accuse me of being too close to
her?” Calisto nodded, resting back in the chair with a slow smile. “I see what
you’re getting at, Ray. My friendship and concern for Emma can’t actually be
innocent, it has to have some kind of hidden meaning behind it. I must be
fucking her, or trying to. I have to be betraying my oath to Cosa Nostra, or my
uncle. That’s what you mean, right?”

“Well—”

“And then there’s Emma,” Calisto interrupted sharply.
“By saying what you’re saying now, you’re effectively shaming her to
la
famiglia
. You’re calling the respected wife of a boss a whore, or rather,
alluding to her behavior as something worthy of a slut. That because she needs
someone to talk to—someone to be a friend that she can trust, as her husband up
and left her without so much as saying goodbye—she is automatically doing
something wrong.”

Ray cleared his throat. “I was just saying …”

“Do not forget that Emma was taken from her family and
life just one year ago. She had no one but the people here. And honestly, that
isn’t a lot. She is scared, she was nearly beaten to death because of her
husband’s involvement in something she doesn’t understand, and she is lonely.
If being here at night to eat supper with her, and to make sure she feel safe
enough to sleep is what she needs, then that is what I’ll do. Your opinions
over my actions mean very fucking little to me, Ray, considering I haven’t done
anything wrong. Neither has Emma.

“And it would benefit you greatly to keep your
opinions to your goddamn self,” Calisto finished darkly.  

“Okay,” Ray said quickly.

“Good. I would suggest you pass that bit of info along
to any other man taking issue with the friendship I share with my uncle’s
wife.”

Ray nodded. “Absolutely.”

Calisto went back to his drink, satisfied he had
handled the conversation well enough to at least deflect people’s opinions for
a little while. How long it would last, however, he wasn’t sure.

“Big day tomorrow,” Ray said after a while.

Calisto tried not to choke on his sudden rush of
anger. “I suppose.”

Yes, a
big
day.

Tribute, actually.

Affonso wasn’t there to collect. Calisto would have to
do it. As Affonso’s consigliere, when the boss wasn’t around to do his duties,
the responsibility fell to Calisto. Ray, as the underboss, would second the
acting boss. If the men of the family deferred to Ray, then Calisto might have
been able to get away with pushing Ray into the seat of acting boss, but the
men didn’t. They favored Calisto because of Affonso’s direction over the years.
Automatically, it would place him into a position where he was the acting boss
of the Donati Cosa Nostra. He had been acting boss ever since Affonso left his
famiglia
high and dry.

But this would be official.

Calisto didn’t want it.

He hated the very idea of it.

It was going to effectively put him in a place where
the men of
la famiglia
could move him into a permanent position as their
boss if they chose to do so. He wouldn’t be able to refuse.

Affonso would have everything he wanted.

It made Calisto sick.

“Have you decided what you’re going to do about the
Irish?” Ray asked.

Calisto stared beyond the man to the decorative brass
clock on the wall. “I’m working on it.”

“I’m willing to help, boss.”

Jesus.

There it was.

Boss
.

“I’ll handle it alone,” Calisto settled on saying,
ignoring the nagging feeling in his chest.

“If you’re sure?”

“Positive.”

Ray dropped it.

Calisto supposed that was the only good thing about
being the boss. What he said went, no matter what.

Too bad it wouldn’t apply to Emma.

He still couldn’t have her.

It was a volcano of irritation overflowing from all
directions around Calisto. He listened as Capos bickered amongst one another,
demanding and spoiled. He waited out their many issues, listening with fake
attention and interest.

He didn’t want to be here.

He didn’t want to do this.

Sighing, he stared at the wall of his club and let his
thoughts drift away from the tribute meeting with the Donati Capos. Usually,
the meeting would be held at the hotel Affonso preferred, but Calsito didn’t
want to drive all the way across town for that.

It was too far from Emma.

“What do you think, boss?”

Calisto’s head jerked up at the question. He almost
despised himself at how automatic his reaction was. Like he’d been waiting for
years to be called that title, and answering it was second nature.

In a way, he knew Affonso had groomed him for this.

It still shouldn’t have happened.

“Think about what?” Calisto asked.

He wasn’t even sure who had asked the question.

A dozen or more pairs of eyes watched him curiously.
Calisto felt unnerved by all the attention. He hadn’t even bothered to
acknowledge the elephant in the room—Affonso’s missing presence.

The men knew, anyway.

The rest was semantics.

“Well?” Calisto demanded when everyone stayed quiet.
“What was the question?”

“Easter is coming up,” Ray said. “They were wondering
if you were going to take over the planning for the dinner that Affonso usually
throws.”

Shit.

Calisto cleared his throat, choosing his next words
carefully. “Of course.”

“Where will we have it?” a Capo in the back asked.

“Where we usually do,” Calisto answered. “At the
Donati home. Affonso’s daughters will still be coming home for vacation. I
don’t want them feeling out of place, and none of you should make them feel
that way, either. The same goes for the man’s wife.”

“Yes, boss,” came the collective response.

Calisto loathed how easy this was, and how simple the
men made it. If it were a different time, if he were a different man, he might
actually want this. But it wasn’t different—he wasn’t.

Unfortunately, the choice was not his to make.

Someone had already made it for him.

Calisto

“Close your eyes,” Calisto said from inside the
hallway.

Emma huffed in the kitchen. “Calisto, come on.”

“Do it, or you’ll ruin the surprise.”

“Fine.”

“Are your eyes closed?”

“No,” Emma muttered.

“Emmy, you’re ruining this for me.”

Emma laughed under her breath, saying, “Fine, my eyes
are closed. You’re still being ridiculous.”

No, he wasn’t.

“All right, I’m coming into the kitchen. Keep your
eyes closed, or else.”

Walking around the corner into the kitchen entryway,
Calisto caught the sight of Emma’s smirk. Thankfully, her eyes were closed. It
was one thing in his favor today.

He held the small shoebox-sized gift in his hands,
trying to keep it steady. He didn’t want to shake the contents up. It wouldn’t
be good when he opened the top for Emma to see what was inside.

“I don’t know why you’re doing this,” Emma said, still
keeping her eyes closed. “I told you that I didn’t want anything for my
birthday.”

“I know,” Calisto replied. “And I didn’t buy you a
thing, Emmy. I happened upon this when I was doing some paperwork up at the
club. One of the servers found him out back.”

Emma’s brow puckered in the cutest way. “Him—what?”

Calisto smiled. “Open your eyes.”

He was standing right in front of her. She opened her
eyes, and her gaze landed on the box he was holding. It was wrapped in shiny
blue paper with a big red bow on the top. He had poked a few holes in the side,
just to be safe.

“Go on,” Calisto urged. “Open it up.”

Emma bit her bottom lip. “What is it?”

“I’m not telling you,
bella
.”

She shot him a look as she reached for the top of the
box. Pulling on the bow, the top came away from the gift, exposing the ball of
fur sleeping inside on top of a fluffy white blanket. The black ball of fur
barely even reacted to the loud gasp Emma let out.

Tiny little ears flicked, and hazy blue eyes blinked
up from inside the box. One of Calisto’s workers had found the shaggy puppy
hiding under a garbage can in the back of the club. The puppy was nearly frozen
to death, as it was the first week of March and still quite cold, and it was
young.

Too young to be alone.

Calisto didn’t know where its mother was.

He cleaned the puppy up, took it to the vet to have it
checked out, and when he was given the green light, he put it in a gift box in
just the nick of time for Emma’s birthday. He knew she was lonely a lot, and
that she needed something to take care of. If she hadn’t lost her second child,
she would have been carrying around a newborn baby.

Calisto was hoping the puppy would give her something
to be happy about.

“Oh, my God,” she mumbled. “It’s so cute.”

“It’s a
he
,” Calisto corrected, chuckling. “And
he likes to chew.”

Emma’s hands trembled as she reached inside the box.
She plucked the little puppy out, and the damn thing was small enough to fit
inside her palms. “What is he?”

“The vet thinks he’s a mix of many things. She didn’t
have a definitive breed. But he is healthy.”

Cooing over the puppy, Emma let the dog nibble on her
finger.

“He’s for me?”

“I thought …” Calisto trailed off, unsure.

Emma glanced up at him. “Thought what, Calisto?”

“He lost his
mamma
somewhere along the way, and
you’re missing something, too,” Calisto said, feeling a little lame. “I thought
you two might get along.”

Her smile bloomed instantly.

It was bright and beautiful.

“Really?” she asked.

“Yeah,
dolcezza
. I was thinking maybe he would
make you smile more.”

“You make me smile, Calisto,” Emma murmured.

But he didn’t know how much longer that would last.

Affonso would still come home someday. Calisto
couldn’t keep pretending this was forever. He didn’t tell Emma any of that,
because she looked far too happy as she fawned over her new pup.

“His fur is so soft,” Emma said, grinning.

“I’ve been calling him whiner, because he whines when
you don’t hold him.”

She smacked him with her free hand. “Cal!”

“Well, he does.”

“He’s a baby.”

“A baby whiner,” Calisto joked. “What are you going to
name him?”

Emma hummed, tickling the puppy’s belly. “Midnight, I
think. Midnight is black and dark, like the color of his fur. Do you like
that?”

“He’s your puppy. You’re the only one who needs to
like his name.”

She met his gaze. “But I want you to like it, too. Do
you?”

Calisto nodded. “Yes, Emmy, of course I like it.”

Because she named him.

Calisto liked everything Emma did.

Quickly, Emma leaned forward and pressed a kiss on
Calisto’s lips. He felt her smile against his mouth as she whispered, “Thank
you.”

He returned her smile. “You’re welcome.”

Straightening, Emma’s attention was back on the pup.
“Best birthday gift ever, Cal.”

“You think?”

“I know. He’s perfect.”

“As long as you think so, then that’s all that
matters. I still think he’s a whiner.”

Emma’s gaze narrowed. “A baby, I said.”

Calisto laughed, put his hands up, and stepped away.
Clearly, Emma’s mamma bear had come out to play with her new companion. “I concede.
By the way, there’s a whole box of dog things for him in the hallway.”

Squealing with happiness, and flashing another one of
her beaming smiles, Emma was already passing Calisto by before he even finished
his sentence. The very sight of her excitement and happiness made the puppy
worth it.

But he still wasn’t cleaning up after the puppy.

Nope
.

“You’re much taller than they said you would be,
Calisto Donati.”

Calisto shoved his hands in his pockets, keeping a
calm demeanor as he approached the dark-dressed man sitting in the front pew.
“And who is this ‘they’ exactly?”

“People,” the man said, smirking just a little. “Sit,
young man.”

Calisto took a seat in the pew, and crossed his left
ankle over his right knee. His posture screamed relaxed and trusting, but his
eyes swept the familiar church, looking for any trouble that might find him.

“Which do you prefer,” Calisto started to ask,
“O’Neil, or Connor? I’ve been told you go by both.”

The Irish boss chuckled deeply.

“Mostly, people call me ‘boss,’ Calisto. But since
you’ve gone as far as arranging this meeting, and inviting me here,” the boss
said, waving at the church, “… I will be amicable to you using my given name.”

“Connor it is,” Calisto murmured.

“Beautiful place,” Connor noted, glancing around the
church.

“It is. I’ve attended this parish since I was a boy.
It’s a peaceful, safe place for me.”

Connor nodded once. “I hear you. You would never ruin this
place with violence or shame, certainly not by causing some trouble inside. Am
I right?”

“Exactly right.”

“I appreciate the trust you’re handing over,” Connor
said. “I assume you have men hiding outside.”

Calisto shook his head. “Not one. I fully intend for
this meeting between you and I to remain peaceful, and for it to end with both
of us walking out of here alive, happy, and amicable to making all of our
problems go away.”

Connor’s mouth drew into a thin line. “Is that so?”

“Is that not what you want?”

“I didn’t say that, Calisto. I just find it hard to
believe. It seems like every time I try to mingle business with the Italians,
they’ve found a way to fuck me over right and proper. Or rather, your uncle
did.”

Calisto cleared his throat. “I am not Affonso.”

“Good thing. I would have spilled your blood all over
this beautiful hardwood floor.”

“I’ve thought about doing the same a few times to the
man,” Calisto admitted.

Connor laughed loudly, the sound bouncing off the walls.
“I like you. An honest man is a hard man to find in this business.”

“There are more of us around than you think. You
simply have to look.”

The Irish boss nodded. “Point taken. Shall we get down
to the dirty details of it all?”

“Let’s do that,” Calisto agreed. “One of your men beat
my uncle’s wife nearly to death.”

“She was a mistake,” Connor said quickly. “I apologize
for that. My man was told to only take out the enforcer, and not to touch the
woman. He said she had seen his face, and made a decision. I didn’t approve of
it.”

Calisto’s throat tightened and his body heated with
anger. “A
mistake
?”

“Yes.”

“Was your man properly punished for his mistake?”

Connor glanced down at his hands. “Not yet, Calisto.”

Jesus.

That pissed him off even more.

“I—”

The Irish boss held up a hand, stopping Calisto from
saying anything else. “First, I would like to talk about why all of this
happened, Calisto, and then maybe you can understand how such a mistake could
come about.”

“I doubt it,” Calisto bit out. “Nothing you will say
can justify the attack on Emma Donati. She was an innocent woman who had her
face beaten by one of your men’s fists for no other reason than she walked out
the back door and the man she was forced to marry is someone who wronged you. Do
not tell me that a scuffle over territory, or business gone badly, justifies
her beating. It doesn’t. It never will.”

“I agree,” Connor said quietly. “You’re surprising me.
I assumed that at your age, you would be more hotheaded than you are. I can see
you’re angry, but you’re still calm. It took me years to learn how to do that,
and by then, I had been a boss for a decade or more.”

Calisto swallowed back his irritation. “I don’t want
to be the boss.”

“Yet, here you are.”

“Affonso didn’t give me a choice. He was tired of it
all.”

Connor laughed darkly. “Seems the man has a thing for
shaking his responsibilities.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“A little over a year ago, I was approached by your
uncle with a business proposition,” the Irish boss murmured, never looking up
from his hands.

“I wasn’t aware of that.”

“He did it on the low, the meeting was very quiet with
little men between us both, and it was over quickly.”

Still, Calisto wondered why Affonso would go behind
his back to meet with the Irish boss in Jersey. It was the sort of thing that
he should have been involved in, being Affonso’s consigliere.